Stone of the Ancients
by CypherX
Summary: In the summer after his fifth year at Hogwarts, Harry decides that he is going to train and learn with or without Dumbledore's help, and discover the power of the Stone of the Ancients Extremely Powerful!Harry somewhat independent!Harry.
1. Home?

Author: Some dude.  
Rating: R for coarse language, suggestive situations, and other tidbits.

Disclaimer: J.K. Rowling owns everything you recognize, and most likely some of the stuff you don't. If you don't recognize it, it may be mine or borrowed from another fic. (If borrowed and you don't like it, lemme know.)

Harry Potter and the Stone of the Ancients - Redeux

**Chapter 1 - Home?**

Harry Potter is not - by any means - a normal boy. He is a Wizard, and currently a very sad one. At the end of his fifth year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, his godfather - his only hope at a 'normal' life - was killed by none other than Bellatrix Lestrange, one of the Dark Lord Voldemort's minions.

Harry's godfather - none other than the infamous 'murderer' Sirius Black - would not be missed by much of normal society, but Harry knew the truth, and was taking his death rather hard. He blamed himself, as he does most things. He blames himself even when confronted with the fact that almost all of the horrific experiences he's had - the deaths that have happened - have been at the hands of Voldemort or his minions.

Now, normal boys Harry's age would be outside playing - riding a bike, maybe blaying basketball or reading. Harry though? Well, he just lay there on his cot, staring at the ceiling, drowning in his own misery.

'I'm not strong enough for this,' Harry thought to himself as he sat up, looking out the window of his tiny bedroom, 'I need to be ready. Dumbledore may not want me to be unsafe, but to hell with safety. There's a war on, and I'm ground zero.' He stood up, and made his way to his trunk, rifling through his clothes and books from his school year until he ran across his tattered invisibility cloak, which he then pulled around himself before heading out of his room.

Harry padded softly down the stairs - making a note to step over the squeaky one near the bottom - and slipped out the back door. He made his way across the back lawn, stopping briefly to watch Nymphadora Tonks - the clumsy Auror tasked with 'guarding' his home - trip over a blade of grass, fall flat on her face, and proceed to scream several obscenities at nearly the top of her lungs. He gave a silent smile, holding back a laugh, and made his way off of his family's property with a bit of a spring in his step. The first spring in quite a while.

Harry made his way down Privet drive towards High Street, the 'main drag' to use the American vernacular, and stopped at a small convenience store. He pulled his cloak off around the corner, then slipped back around naturally, looking as if he'd just swept in off of the street. He nodded once at the cashier, then made his way toward the back of the small store, browsing for a few specific items. His first was a baseball-style cap, with the logo of one of the local teams. He hadn't kept up on the local sports, not having had access to any kind of media at the Dursley's, so had no idea which team it actually belonged to. He then went around the end cap to a rack of sunglasses. He picked out a nice slightly-mirrored dark pair, and tried them on in the mirror. They hid his telltale green eyes perfectly. He pulled them off, and carried both purchases to the counter.

"Hallo, lad." The older, gruff looking cashier said with a friendly tone, "That'll be seventeen pounds fifty."

Harry smiled slightly at the words, happy to hear the familiar currency again, and pulled a twenty pound note from his wallet, glad that he'd exchanged some of his gold for muggle money during a Hogsmeade trip last year. "Thanks," he said as he collected his change, "Have a nice one." He slipped back out the door, pulling his hat and glasses on. He couldn't see as well, not being able to wear his perscription, but at least his eyes weren't quite as noticeable now.

He walked to a slightly less busy area of town, then - after looking around to make sure noone was paying attention - he raised his wand out.

BANG! - The Knight Bus appeared in front of him, Stan Shunpike - as usual - hanging onto the door frame, leaning out the door casually. "Welcome to the Knight Bus..."

"Hello Stan," Harry said, smiling softly, "It's been a while."

"Harry Potter?" He replied quietly. "I hadn't expected to see you again so soon."

Harry looked through the windows, noting the deserted bus. "Got any room on board for one more?" He joked. "I'm tring to get to Diagon."

"Always, for a celebrity such as yourself, though we may have to move a few people around." Stan returned the jab with ease. Harry stepped onto the bus behind the operator, who pointed him towards the back. "You ride free."

Harry thanked the man, then made his way toward the back. The bus lurched into it's peculiar high-speed rollercoaster of a trip just as Harry reached his seat and got seated, and before he knew it he was standing at the curb in front of the Leaky Cauldron pub. "And so it begins.", He thought as he stepped inside. "The rest of my life."

Author's Note: Well hello there. I'm doing a little (read: big) rewrite of Stone of the Ancients. This time with less plotholes and more planning, hopefully. The fanbase has kinda dropped dead in the last few years, but I figured it was time to make a go of this. After all, I've been promising it for a long, /long/ time.

More to come!


	2. Diagon Alley

**Chapter 2 - Diagon Alley**

Harry immediately sensed the... sameness of the place. It hadn't changed in the slightest. Same raggedy old barhand, same run-down bar. Harry walked up and sat down at the bar. "Can I help you?" The barman asked.

"Yes, you can. Could we possibly talk somewhere private for a minute?" Tom turned around and set down the glass he'd been cleaning, then made for the back room.

"Follow me," he said.

Harry followed along behind the older gentleman as he took in the sight of the room. It was obviously old, but had a sense of loving cleanliness that only comes with experienced hands. It was obvious that the place was taken care of, even if it'd been a while since it had seen an update. Tom the bartender led him into the back room, where he then turned around, asking him his business. Harry pulled off his glasses, replacing them with his real ones, then removed his hat. "I honestly just need somewhere private to eat some lunch before I sneak my way into the Alley. I can't go walking around publicly, you know." Tom got a look on his face, then smiled, knowing Harry for exactly who he was.

"Sounds fine to me, then. You're welcome to use this room, if you like. I'll roll in a table for you." Tom stepped out, only to return ten minutes later with a table hovering in front of him. On top, a plate with a cold sandwich, crisps, a butterbeer, and a large mug of pumpkin juice.

"Thank you, Tom. I appreciate it." Harry said as the table floated down in front of him. He paid the man in Galleons, along with a sizable tip, then dug in. He finished up his meal in record time, he stepped out of the room, then out the back door of the Cauldron, towards Diagon Alley.

The combination to the brick wall hadn't changed, and Harry easily recalled it. As usual, the oddness of the alley struck him full-force, with the crooked buildings, strange signs, and stranger people. He continued toward the end of the alley, heading for one of the most recognizable buildings in Diagon Alley - Gringotts.

Harry made his way up the massive marble steps of the tall building, skipping reading the inscription on the doors as he stepped through into the lobby. He made his way up to the counter, and looked under his hat brim at the Goblin on the other side. The Goblin Harry recognized as Griphook looked up from his jewel counting, and his eyes lit up slightly. Harry responded quickly with a finger to his mouth in a 'shush' gesture. "Mr. Potter!" Griphook exclaimed in an excited (for a Goblin) whisper, then in a more normal voice, "How nice to see you again."

"Thank you, Griphook," Harry responded, at which Griphook looked surprised, raising one of his massive eyebrows, "how've you been?"

The Goblin smiled slightly - a frightful sight, given the many rows of nasty looking sharp teeth - and replied "Very good. Great, in fact. I'm a banker now, instead of a lowly assistant. How can I be of help today?"

The young wizard fished in his pocket for the key he had only barely remembered to grab, and placed it on the counter. "I'd like to have a trip to my vault, and I'd like for you to take me there, if you're able."

The Goblin lit up slightly, and stepped around the counter after putting away his jewels and scales. "I'd be happy to." He led Harry over to the familiar cart system, "Climb in."

The old minecart went careening down the track, past some giant stone statues, past the upper vaults, waterfalls, pits and traps, and finally came to a stop in front of Harry's vault. "Here we are, sir. The Potter Trust vault."

Harry stepped out of the cart, and walked two steps before he did a double take. "Trust vault?"

Griphook chuckled and nodded. "Yes, sir. Your family is very old, and very very rich. You have access to many vaults. Other families that have married in, pledged houses, and your family vault as well."

Harry looked back at his familiar vault door. "Can we go in here, then to the family vault?" Griphook nodded, and opened the door for him. Harry proceeded to dig through his piles, pulling out a total of a thousand galleons before he came back to the cart. "Right. Take me to the family vault, please." Griphook snapped his fingers, and they sped off, but this time sideways.

Author's Notes:

Here's chapter two of the rewrite of SotA. My writing has improved greatly, I believe, and the difference would have been too great to simply... continue. It was easier to simply start from the beginning. Lemme know what you think?


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